Chance Encounter
by Lauralogan80
Summary: Driving home Arnold bumps into an old friend. He was always good at getting himself in trouble, and she at getting him into it!
1. Chapter 1

A Chance Encounter

It was late afternoon. He had been driving since early this morning, after a good nights sleep, from his start early the previous morning. Arnold knew it would be faster to get to his destination via plane, but he didn't feel like holing himself up in a big metal tube, fifty thousand feet in the air. He'd had enough of being cramped up with other people. As much of a people person as he was, even he had his limits these days. He looked at the dashboard. Two forty seven. He should stop. According to the GPS there was a diner about fifteen minutes away. He could stay there. Maybe also inquire about where the next motel was. He wanted an early night tonight. He was tired. Driving was exhausting work.

He was going to Hillwood to sort out some business, and attend his best friends wedding. With his grandparents both deceased, and his parent having no interest in the Boarding House, he was putting it on the market. He didn't live in the area, and travelled so much that he was hardly ever there. Nine times out of ten the boarders didn't pay their rent anyway. Arnold sighed.

It was a painful decision, but it was one that had to be made. The Sunset Arms had been in his family since . . . forever, but he didn't have the time for it anymore. He was glad his grandfather was not here to find out about his decision. He would have moaned and groaned and made Arnold feel guilty. Shit, Arnold could hear his voice, even now! He shook his head, and slammed his hands against the steering wheel.

He was peeved with his parents as well. Being reunited with them, after years apart, Arnold had left to be with them. He had all these ideas and hopes for how it would be. Should be.

But had only been disappointed.

His parents, though they loved him, found it . . . difficult, at best, to actually be parents. They were also very much into their work. Living with them with his grandparents had been one thing. Without them, once they were settled again, was completely different. They couldn't get over the fact that he wasn't a little baby boy. He couldn't get used to the idea of strict curfews and having some constantly on his back, looking over his shoulder. It had been maddening, and had led to actual verbal fights. University had been a relief. Though even in that, his parents tried to interfere and be involved.

He hadn't spoken to them for a month. He had found out his mother had tried setting him up again with a an old girlfriend from high school, she had taken a liking to, and had always moaned about Arnold having broken up with. Arnold had been livid. How dare they!? He had walked out that night, ignored his father calls, hopped in his car and driven back home.

When he had gotten the invitation Arnold had called immediately and talked some things through with Gerald. They both decided it would be better to talk about things in person, though Arnold didn't want to dump his problems on Gerald. He had enough things to think about and worry about with his upcoming wedding.

Finally seeing the diner, which it turned out had a motel next door (run by the same people), Arnold pulled in. parking he found his eyes drawn to the back of a young blonde in shorts. Her long tanned legs led to a tight thirm butt, that Arnold couldn't help but look at. Her hair was up in a high messy ponytail, and tied with a pink ribbon.

Pink ribbon.

He had once known a blonde who wore a pink ribbon. Tall and lanky, Helga Pataki had been "just one of the guys,". She was competitive, fearless and rough as guts, but she was also sensitive, caring and terrified of rats. Arnold laughed silently to himself. Rats. Of all things. He took his eyes away from the sway of a goddess's ass, and looked towards the diner. Hmmm . . . Food or room first?

He decided on food. Getting out he made his way to the diner and went in. the smell of food hit him like one of the trucks parked up outside. He went over and looked at the menu. An all day breakfast sounded nice.

"What can I get ya?" a young brunette asked, smiling brightly. Arnold smiled back.

"All day breakfast?".

"No worries," she said brightly, turning away and making her way to the til and bringing up his order. He paid for it then took a seat.

…

Hitch hiking again. It had been a while since she had had somewhere stable to live. Mostly she just travelled around surviving with her wits, artistic flair, and sparkling personality. She would often set up her easel and paints and paint scenery's and even portraits, that people would pay for. It was a nice, steady income, that she didn't pay tax on. She had even done a commission for a church a family she often stayed with, went too. She was paid well, too.

While on her travels she had met the Camel family. She had snickered at their last name, and rolled her eyes at them. They were Christians, but not the pushy, "believe in what I believe in or else your evil and going to hell" types. The mother had realised she was a run away of some kind. She had gotten in contact with Big Bob, who assured them he knew where she was. Helga stayed with them for a few months. They never pressured her into going to church and she never went. After a couple of months she moved on, but kept their number and knew where they kept a spare key they left out for her, "just in case". The last time she had stayed there for a week they had been away. They didn't mind. She never stole from them or threw their help back in their face. She had respect for them. Plus she knew they struggled themselves, with three kids, a mortgage, and only one income due to the fathers epilepsy.

Getting Phoebe's letter from them had surprised her. She was getting married. She knew she was engaged to Gerald, but she didn't realise they were moving that fast.

"This will be a good chance to reconnect," Lyra said, bustling around her kitchen. "We can give you a lift."

"No, it's okay," Helga told her, smiling. She knew they couldn't really afford the gas for a trip like that. "I have some money, I'll get there."

She looked at Helga worriedly.

"You're a good girl Helga?" she said, though Helga knew it was a question. Helga smiled. Oh yes, she was a good girl. She just nodded. Lyra bit her lip. "You just take care of yourself, okay? You get in trouble and you cant reach your father you call, alright?"

Helga had assured her she would do that. Lyra Camel was a maternal woman. Helga knew she hated to work, not be home for her children. When Helga did stay with them she helped out, and would get a job to help with expenses. Lyra and Kevin would never take money from her, so she would sneak off with their power or phone bill and pay money off on them.

She sighed, remembering their nice, warm, house. She had managed to get this far hitch-hiking. Mostly with a carload of girls on a road trip. They were fresh out of high school, taking time off before going their separate ways for College. They were absolutely fascinated with Helga and the stories she had to tell. They were sad to see her go, and tried to talk her into continuing with them, but she had declined, explaining her reasons for going to Hillwood. They dropped her off in the centre of Washington, wanting to do the touristy things. Helga had shaken her head. What eighteen year olds did that?

It was her mother who, in the end, had chased her out. They were fighting constantly about anything and everything, and Helga lost it at her one night. Miriam had slapped her, Bob had stepped in, Helga had rushed out the door. Bob had found her later on and gave her money for a Motel room.

"Come home in a couple of days, when you've both cooled down," he told her.

Helga hadn't gone back. Her father had tracked her down using a private detective, though it took him six months. He went away on a "business trip" and met up with her. He was disappointed, but knew she was a hard-head like himself. So he agreed to help her financially, on the condition she kept in constant contact and came back to Hillwood once in a while.

It was a small price to pay.

She looked up at the diner, then over to the Motel. She'd get a room first, then some grub. Then look at timetables for buses. She was bored of hitch-hiking, and after the last offer of a lift, felt her good luck was running out.

Entering Helga found a young man behind the desk reading Penthouse.

"Impressive," she said aloud, making him jump, drop the magazine and turn red. "Not the best impression to give customers. Are you a peeping Tom or something."

The guy went even redder, which surprised Helga. She was expecting some kind of smart alec comeback, but instead got a stuttering mess.

"Relax, sheesh, I don't give a shit what your reading, I just need a room," she said, coming up to him. He sat down and moved his chair closer to the desk, so his torso was pressed against it. Helga smirked. Teenage boys.

"Um, ju-just you?" he asked her, not looking her in the eyes.

"Yep, just me," she said, looking at her nails.

"Uh, okay, here, room twelve," he said, he handed her a piece of paper asking for all her details. She filled it in and handed it back to him, paying him up front for the room. He handed her the key.

"Thanks man," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder and winking at him. "Try hiding it behind another book next time."

She made her way to her room, passing by parked cars.

She was getting hungry.

Entering the room she saw a big double bed. Sighing she dropped her bag and threw herself on it.

So. Nice.

…

Arnold was finishing up when he saw, again, the blonde in shorts. He almost chocked. It couldn't be, could it? Her features were the same, the ears, the big blue eyes, the nose, though the scowl and unibrow was gone. Her eyebrows were still thick, but were shaped and separate. "Brooke Shields eyebrows" as his mother would call them. He shook his head. Brooke Shields?

He watched her as she made her way over to the counter and ordered her food. She was handed a number and turned around looking for a clear table. Finally her eyes settled on him and she blinked, tilted her head, and her mouth opened into a shocked o. Then she frowned, looked away shaking her head, then looked at him again. He waved to her. She gave him a lopsided grin. He got up and made his way over, and she started toward him. Meeting halfway they just smiled at each other.

"Phoebe and Gerald's wedding?" he asked.

"Yep," she said, fiddling with the number on the stand she had.

"Got a ride?"

"Was thinking of maybe catching the bus. Had a close call hitch-hiking," she told him, smiling.

"Come with me," he said boldly. "We're going in the same direction."

"Gas, ass or grass?" she joked.

"A bit of everything would be good."

They both laughed, and she followed him over to his table.

"So what have you been doing with yourself?" he asked, sitting down across from her.

"Oh, you know, this and that, travelling," she said, tapping her fingers on the table top. "What about you?"

"University, internship, job" he told her. She nodded, and placed her hands on the table top, spreading her fingers out.

"What doing?" she asked, looking towards the counter. Boy from the Motel desk was in flirting with the pretty young waitress, who was giggling and flirting back. How quaint.

"Teaching history and science to teenagers," he told her.

"Wow, sucks to be you," she said, making a face.

"Why?" he asked, curious.

"Because most sane people spend thirteen years wanting to get out of High School. They don't spend four years at University to get back in," she told him.

Arnold laughed. "I didn't set out to be a teacher, Helga," he told her. "I set out to be an anthropologist."

"So what happened?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Needed a job."

"Yeah, fair enough," she said, leaning back.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Like I said, I travel, do a bit of art here and there," she said. "There's still people out there who think it's so romantic to have their portrait painted. Sometimes it's commissions, sometimes people just see my work and buy it."

"So you're an artist?" he asked.

"Sometimes," she looked up as the waitress brought her food to her. "Thanks."

"Other times?" he asked.

Helga shrugged.

"What University did you go to?" he asked.

"Didn't," she admitted. "I've done a bit of everything, I guess. I've been an artist, a stripper, a "nanny", a waitress, and store clerk."

"I don't know what shocks me more. The stripper part or the nanny part," he said.

"I know," she said. "I cant believe someone would leave kids in my care either, but they were good kids, and the family was helping me out too, giving me a roof over my head. It was the least I could do. The father was quite sick, so having me there helped save them money on childcare costs while they were in the hospital."

Arnold stared hard at this woman in front of him. Was this the same Helga Pataki that had ruled the playground with an iron fist? Who teased him and his friends? Who was known to be rude and obnoxious at the best of times, never mind the worst!

And she was helping out a family? Looking after their children? He smiled. He always knew there was a good side to Helga. It just took the right kind of people to bring that side of her out.

"I should probably go get a room sorted," he said.

"Okie dokie," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "I'm in room twelve."

"Great, but I'll be back in a bit anyway," he told her, and got up to make his way to book a room. When he got there no one was behind the desk so he hit the bell. a few moments later the boy who had been flirting with the waitress who had served him came running in.

"Sorry, sorry, you need a room?" he asked. He sat down and handed him some papers. "Just some details, thanks."

Arnold filled the forms out, and looked up as he was handed a key.

"Room four," the boy told him. Arnold paid for the room and then made his way back to the diner, but saw Helga leaving and heading back towards the Motel. He waited for her.

Wow she was pretty. A little thin. He usually went for girls who were a little curvier, with a bit more meat on their bones, so to speak. She didn't have a curvaceous body, or big boobs, but she walked with confidence. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he was attracted to her, though.

"Your gawking, Football Head," she said smiling.

"What can I say?" he said, shrugging.

"Uh huh, keep it up, and I might just take my chances hitch-hiking," she told him, walking past and lightly slapping his arm. He just laughed. Flirting? Was she flirting? He followed her as she walked to her room and let herself in. "What number are you?"

"Four," he told her.

"Lucky you, close to the food," she said, flopping down on the big bed. Arnold looked for somewhere to sit, but there was no couch. So he stood there awkwardly. "I don't bite. Unless you request it."

So he took a seat on her bed. She sat up and puller her hair out of it's pony tail, fluffing it up and combing her hands through it, her head tilting back, exposing her neck.

Damn being a man.

"So what you say we pick up some food, something to drink and spend the night catching up?" she suggested.

"Sounds good," he said.

"Yeah, well, if we're going to be spending all our time tomorrow cramped into your car, it may be a good idea," she said. "Don't want to end up killing each other on the way there."

"I'll buy the food," he said.

"Sweet! I'll buy the drinks," she said, jumping up.


	2. Chapter 2

(I don't own Hey Arnold)

…..

…..

"I don't even know why I bothered to rent a room," Arnold muttered, rubbing his head. He was hung over and tired. He'd also fallen asleep in Helga's room in the early hours of the morning. He was absolutely enthralled with Helga's tales of what she had been up to. She had done and seen so much!

She was also a very different person now to what she had been so many years ago.

Helga just grunted and rolled onto her side. Arnold looked over at her sleeping form. She had been starfished on the bed, not under the covers. It was a cool morning and Arnold couldn't understand why she wasn't freezing in those shorts and tank top.

The last time he had woken up in a bed with a girl, no clothes were involved, but there was a hangover, it had been just before college had ended. He swore off girls for a while, then got busy and didn't bother trying to form relationships.

He was relieved not to have gone down that track again. Helga was a lot of fun, and a real laugh, and he didn't want to ruin it or make things awkward. He got up and got himself a glass of water from the kitchenette, then realised there was no food. He'd go next door and get something for them both. He took her key and slipped out the door, gently closing the door so as not to wake her. Then he made his way over to the diner to get them food.

…

Helga heard him leave, opened an eye, then closed it again. She was supposed to be out by ten. She groaned again. It had been a long time since she had drunk like that. The last time she had done so she had sworn never to do it again. Of course, she always told herself that. She must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing she knew Arnold was declaring "Breakfast!" all loud and happy like. She wondered briefly if he would leave her to make her own way back to Hillwood if she punched him.

Sitting up she yawned and smiled when she saw breakfast. Toast, eggs, sausages, bacon, and coffee. Wow!

"This is fantastic," she said. "I'll have to marry you, if continue treating me this well. Wether you like it or not!"

Arnold laughed.

"Rhonda said something like that to me once," he told her grinning.

"Rhonda wanted to marry you?" she asked, raising a brow.

"No. Her origami said I would marry you wether I like it or not," he told her, smiling.

"Oh, yeah, I remember that thing," Helga said, scrunching up her nose.

"Who'd you get?" he asked.

"Never did it," she said with a shrug. Arnold nodded.

"Probably figured after me getting you a hundred and ten times, you didn't need to," he mused.

Helga just stared at him.

"A hundred and ten times?" she asked.

He looked embarrassed. Helga laughed.

"Don't feel bad," she told him. "I wouldn't have wanted to be married to me either. Besides, who's thinking about such things at nine?"

Arnold nodded and picked up a piece of toast. He watched Helga eat, mulling things over. He hadn't thought of her in years, and bumping into her, actually seeing her in front of him, hearing her voice (which had changed, yet somehow he could still hear the hint of the child she was), was a bit of a shock to his system. And she was such a different person. He was pulled out of his reverie by his phone ringing. He dug it out of his pocket and looked at the caller id. His mom. He frowned, then hit the disconnect button, not wanting to talk to her right now.

"Girlfriend? Boss?" Helga enquired, without looking at him.

"Parent," he said grumpily, then ripped a piece of toast apart. He continued to rip it to small pieces and put them in his mouth.

"Wow, what did the toast do to you?" she asked.

Arnold shook his head. If he talked about it, it would get him in a worse mood than what he was already in. he looked to see Helga studying him, then she shrugged a shoulder and went back to eating. Arnold wondered briefly if she went through this frustration with her parents. He remembered Gerald used to moan about his all the time, but deep down he just thought Gerald was being a dramatic, ungrateful brat. Maybe there had been something in it . . .

"So you up to driving?" she asked, picking up her coffee and taking a sip.

"Not really," he admitted, head started to pound. "Painkillers will help though, I'm sure."

"We could always stay another night," Helga suggested. "I don't feel like travelling."

"We could," he said. "Your room or mine?"

"Have you even been into your room?" she asked. Arnold shook his head. "Well, if you don't mind me going all starfish on you again, we'll keep this one."

"Good idea, I'll go sort that out now."

…..

"This is cute," Helga said, pointing to a little white wrought iron cupcake and cake stand.

"I don't think so, Helga," Arnold said, glancing over, making a face then looking around. "Maybe we should look in Manchester?"

"Maybe we should wait til we have a more higher class store to look around than _Walmart_," she whispered.

"Helga," he growled under his breath. "Someone might hear you."

"Whatever," she said, picking up a cutlery set. "What about this?"

"I'm sure they have enough cutlery," Arnold said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, Football Head, I'm outta ideas, you give it a shot," she snapped, walking past and ahead of him. He sighed and made his way toward the manchester department. There really wasn't anything he would deem 'Wedding Gift' worthy. A few minutes later Helga came up to him with a big grin on her face. A "I'm-so-naughty" grin. What was she up to now?

"Tada!" she said, pulling from behind her back a baby bouncer.

"A baby bouncer?" he asked, half surprised, half appalled.

"Yeah, I mean, they're getting married, so they'll be getting it ooon, so who knows what special little surprise they'll be bringing home in nine to ten months!" she said, laughing. "And no one else will be thinking this far ahead."

"We're not getting them a baby bouncer, Helga," he said, then turned and walked down another aisle. Helga was left standing there slightly stunned, and weary. Was he aware of what he had just said? We. '_What we?_' she thought, looking down at the box that held the bits and pieces needed to make a bouncer. '_There's no we_.'

"Helga, look!" his voice called out. She was broken from her tranceand followed him over to the next aisle.

Arnold was holding a duvet set. It wasn't pretty, and was typical of something a man would pick out.

"A duvet set?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's practical and useful," he said, grinning like he had won the lottery or something.

"Well, I'm going with the baby bouncer," she said, turning around and walking off. Her sudden change of mood wasn't lost on Arnold. Where had the mischievous, playful, laughing Helga gone? He sighed and followed her towards checkout. He saw her staring at a slow cooker, then looking at the bouncer.

"A slow cooker could come in handy," he said, coming up behind her. She jumped a little, putting her hand against her chest.

"Geez, Arnold, don't sneak up on me like that," she said, looking away from him. But he saw her red rimmed eyes, holding back tears. Had he said something or done something wrong? He went through everything he had said in his head. Then he thought of it. Was it when he said "we can't get them a baby bounder?". Was it the implication of the "We"? like they were a couple?

"Helga, did I say someth-"

"No, I'm fine," she said, hastily rubbing her eyes on her sleeve. She put the bouncer down and grabbed the slow cooker instead. "Let's go."

….

Three hours later and Arnold was wishing he had kept his own room. Helga had gone into some sort of sulk. She was currently sitting on the couch watching Titanic and eating popcorn. Arnold had sent Gerald a text, telling him he wanted to talk online. It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have via text or verbally. He needed a long quiet conversation. Opening his laptop he logged in and waited patiently for Gerald to come on. He got a text telling him he was on, then a message.

**G-SpotMan:** Hey man, what's up?

Arnold shook his head at the screen name. Some things never changed . . .

**Arnold:** _I bumped into Helga. We're sharing a Motel room. She's coming along with me. We're staying an extra day, then will start our way back tomorrow. Should be there by the afternoon/evening._

Arnold sat and waited. There was a long silence and he asked Gerald if he was there.

**G-SpotMan:** _Arnold, it's Phoebe, be careful with her._

**Arnold:** _Why? Is she a psycho killer?_

**G-SpotMan:** _No shes been badly hurt. don't try anything ok?_

**Arnold:** _What happened?_

**G-SpotMan:** _it's complicated, and not my place to tell you. Just be sensitive and don't start anything if you know what I mean. its nothing against you. Shes just . . . She was really hurt and I don't know if she's coped with it since._

**Arnold:** _What kind of hurt? Her parents?_

**G-SpotMan:** n_ot that simple._

Arnold thought back on when the mood had soured.

**Arnold:** _I need to know what triggered her off Pheebs so I don't do it again._

**G-SpotMan:** _What do you mean triggered her off?_

**Arnold:** _We were in Walmart looking for a present fro you guys and she came up with a baby bouncer and I said "we can't get them that". was that what would have changed her mood? I need to know so I don't say it again. She crying and watching titanic and eating popcorn. How do I cheer her up?_

**G-SpotMan:** _maybe. If she wants you to know shell tell you. But don't push it Arnold. You could push her over completely. Just try to keep her away from baby and small children stuff._

**Arnold:**_ Ok._

Arnold looked over at her now. She was starting to cry and it hadn't even gotten to the sad bits. Did he go over and comfort her? Arnold looked back at the screen when he heard the ping.

**G-SpotMan:** _Walmart? Really? Walmart?_

**Arnold:** _lol sorry G-SpotMan, it's the only store we could find._

He logged off.

"Hey, Helga, phoebe is online, you wanna chat to her?"

"Nope," she sniffed, not taking her eyes away from the screen, Arnold sighed and shut down.

…..

Her mood started to pick up around dinner. They decided to use the little kitchen and cook something, rather than eat more from the diner next door. Arnold cooked while Helga went and had a bath. He wanted so much to ask her about her mood swing today, but Phoebe's words kept flashing before his eyes.

When he as done he went and knocked on the door, but go no answer. Feeling a small rise of panic he tried the door to find it was locked. Remembering how sad she looked, and Phoebe's words he really started to panic. Had she hurt herself? Was she dead?

"Helga!" he called through the door. "Helga!"

He banged on the door, then heard the lock click. It opened a bit and she stuck her head out.

"What?" she snapped. "I was having a nice good soak."

Her hair was wet, and the towel barely covered a thing. He blushed and looked away after glimpsing bare skin. Three years, that was all. Three years since he had been with a woman...

"Uh, dinners ready," he said quietly.

"And you had to attack the door to let me know?" she asked, opening the door a little wider.

"Sorry, I just thought-"

"Geez, it takes more than Titanic to get me wanting to drown myself or something," she said rolling her eyes. "I'll be out in a bit."

Arnold walked away feeling stupid. How could he think such a thing? He dished their food out and got them each a glass of water, then he sat down and started to eat. A few minutes later Helga came out of the bathroom drying her hair with a towel. She said nothing to him, just wrapped her long blonde tresses in the towel, sat down, took a sip of water, and started to eat. They ate in silence for a while before Arnold could no longer stand it. They weren't married, they weren't a couple, why were they acting like this?

"So what did?" he asked.

"Did what?" she asked, pretending she didn't know.

"Made you so upset today," he said.

"Nothing," she said, then finished her food. "Absolutely nothing."

Arnold knew he would get nothing from her.

…

Arnold had spent most of the night lying in bed next to her, trying to think of what could have set her off. So when the next morning came, he slept in longer than Helga.

Helga, feeling bad for her mood swing yesterday, went and got them breakfast. She ate at the small table while Arnold slept. When he finally woke she handed him his breakfast.

"I can drive first if you like," she offered.

Arnold nodded and ate.

"We need to sign out in half an hour," she told him quietly. "I'm sorry for yesterday."

Arnold stopped and looked up at her.

"What caused it?" he asked.

"Maybe later," Helga said, looking away. She picked up his car keys and their bags and went out to his car. She felt terrible going all angst-teen on him the previous day. She opened the boot of the car and threw her bag in their bags and closed it. Then she went to sign out. It was a quick and painless process, an older woman being behind the counter that morning. 'Lover boy must be off a courting' she thought to herself with a smirk. When she got back to the car Arnold was sitting in the passenger seat, looking ready to nod off again. She hopped in and startled him when she slammed the door.

"Geez, Football Head, didn't you get any sleep at all last night?" she asked.

"No," he mumbled, and closed his eyes again.

"Why not?" she asked, starting the car, clipping her seatbelt in and adjusting the rear vision mirror.

"Because of Helga," he mumbled. Helga looked over at him, realising he had fallen asleep again. Her? She had kept him up all night? Why? Should she feel flattered or guilty?

"What did I do?" she asked, reversing out of the car park. Arnold sat up and looked over at her.

"Worried me. Why did you get so upset?" he asked.

Helga looked straight ahead, and drove and chose not to answer.


	3. Chapter 3

It was lunchtime and they decided to stop one last time. They both needed the toilet, and something to eat. They were another hour from Hillwood. After relieving themselves, they met again at the counter and ordered food. They sat down, still in silence and ate. Then continued to drive.

They spent the last hour of the drive listening to music in a more comfortable silence, though it was now Arnold's turn to brood. Helga took notice, but said nothing. They started to talk again when they entered Hillwood.

"Wow, I would have thought it would have changed a lot more than this," Helga said.

"It's like it hasn't changed at all," Arnold added. "Were you planning to stay with Gerald and Phoebe?"

"Yeah, was just going to hang around, get underfoot, make a pain of myself," Helga told him with a laugh.

Arnold was quiet for a moment.

"Hey, you think we could stop-"

"Stay with me," he blurted out suddenly.

"What? Your not staying with them?" she asked.

"No, I'm going to the boarding house, staying there, doing it up a bit then going to sell it, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Helga said. "Forgot. You don't mind?"

Mind? No, Arnold didn't mind.

"Not at all," he said, giving her a smile.

"In that case," she said, pointing at the windscreen. "Home James."

Home. It sounded wonderful.

…..

He pulled up outside the boarding house and looked up at it. For years this had been his home. The attic at the top his sanctuary. So many tales told, dreams dreamed, love, laughter and memories shared, were inside that house. He hadn't been back since his Grandpa had died. The place had been left to him in the will, but he was only nineteen at the time. His parents wanted him to sell it, use the money for University. Arnold had gone behind their back and put it in a trust.

"Are you ready?" Helga asked. She could tell a lot was going through his mind. He nodded silently. "Alright, then here we go."

They both got out, and made their way up the steps to the door. Arnold pulled out his key and opened the door and entered. The house was quiet.

"Are you expected?" Helga asked.

"Yesterday," he told her, walking into the living room. Not much had been changed in here. He stopped and looked up the stairs. He took Helga's hand and led her up the stairs.

"You know, with a bit of time and paint, maybe some wallpaper, this place would look pretty nice," Helga said, looking around. Family pictures were still on the wall. They made their way to the top landing, and Arnold pulled on a string dangling down from the ceiling. Stairs dropped down, and he started up. Helga watched him go, then followed him up when he turned and beckoned her to.

His old bedroom was empty of any personal items. Some furniture and other odds and ends had been places up here, brought up from the basement. On one side was where he used to have a bed. He sighed, looking up at the skylight. He looked over at Helga and saw her looking at where the couch was, smirking. Then she turned to him and smiled.

"Now what?"

….

"Oh, Oskar, I don't know why I put up with you!" a woman's voice rung out.

"Because I'm special and you love me," a man's voice replied with a nervous laugh afterwards.

"Oh, your special alright," Susie Kokashka said, entering the kitchen. She dropped the bag she was carrying with surprise. "Arnold!?"

"Hi Susie, hi Oskar," Arnold said, smiling.

Susie rushed forward and enveloped him in a big hug.

"Oh, honey, what happened? We were expecting you yesterday!" she told him, pulling back.

"I got sidetracked," he told her smiling and looking towards Helga.

"Hi," Helga said quietly.

"Oh, Arnold, I didn't know you had a girlfriend," Susie said. Before Arnold could say anything Oskar piped up.

"And she's really pretty," he said.

"We're not dating," Helga said flatly.

'Yet,' Arnold said in his mind. He shook his head, and smiled. 'What are you going to do now?' he asked himself.

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry," Susie said. "I just assumed-"

"It's fine, Susie, don't worry about it," Arnold assured her, just wanting to get off the topic.

"Well, um, I didn't have anything prepared for dinner . . ." Susie looked at a loss.

"No worries," Arnold said, getting up. "Helga and I are going out for dinner tonight, aren't we?"

"Uh, sure," she said, getting up as well.

"That will give me time to sort your room out dear," Susie said. "The other boarders wont be back for a while."

"Great," he said, looking over at Helga he smiled. "Let's get ready."

…

Helga was just putting some lip gloss on, when Arnold knocked on her door. He looked in at the room that was next to his.

"Ready?" he asked. Helga looked at him. 'Oh, Arnold, your so handsome!' she swooned in her head. She could see her nine year old self fainting at the sight of him. She resisted the urge to laugh at herself.

"Just gotta get my heels on, and we're ready to go," she told him. He was handsome in his black button up top, and blacks slacks. Sitting down on the bed, Arnold watched her getting her shoes on. She was wearing an empire cut blue dress, with the skirt having cream chiffon flowing around it. She looked good, and surprisingly busty. 'Where has she been hiding those?' he thought. She hadn't looked that big before. And her shoes . . . they were those strappy things that always made Arnold wonder why girls weren't crawling along the ground on their faces. How did they balance in them? "Okay, ready."

They both walked down the stairs, and out to the car. Arnold opened the door for her.

"Anyone would think this was a date," she told him. He smiled and closed the door behind her, then hopped in on his side.

"Maybe it is," he said. "I would've asked, but figure this way it's too late for you to turn me down."

Helga looked him up and down.

"Sneaky," she said, finally. Arnold smiled at her, then started the car.

…

"Reservation, table for two," Arnold said, his last name blocked out by a passing ambulance.

"Of course, right this way, Sir," the said, and led them to a table. Helga couldn't believe he had made a reservation at Chez Paris. When had he done it? Was he serious when he said this was a date?

"Here's your table, and your waiter will be along in a moment," they were told, then the turned and left them to go back to the front of the resturant.

"Even this place hasn't changed much," Arnold noted, looking around.

"No kidding," Helga said, looking over the menu. Then she looked at him with a cheeky smile. "They still don't serve hamburgers."

Arnold blinked at her for a moment, then remembered. The only time he had come here with her was with Phoebe and Gerald too. And he hadn't ordered a hamburger, due to the fact that when he was on that date with the fake Cecile . . .

Arnold mentally slapped his forehead. What. An. Idiot. How blind and dumb was he to have missed the complete obvious. It was Helga.

"You alright?" she asked, looking at him concerned.

"Yeah, I just . . . wow, I was really stupid as a kid," he said. Helga laughed. "So that was you that Valentine's night?"

"Yeah," she said, trying not to laugh. "I was an absolute basket case as a kid."

"Can I take your order?" a young woman asked, in a fake French accent.

"Le confit de canard," Helga said, with a smile. "With a glass of white Pinot Gris."

"Uhhh," Arnold looked over the menu. Helga leaned forward.

"Try the Rillette de porc fermier au Riesling," she whispered.

"What is it?" he asked, glancing at the waitress, embarrassed. She just gave him an understanding smile.

"Pork flavoured with Riesling," she told him.

"Riesling?"

"A type of wine, Arnold," she answered.

"There's types? Oh, okay, uh, Rillette de-"

"It's okay," their waitress said. "I got it. Would you like any wine?"

"Um, no," he said. "Do you have soda? I'll just have a soda." Their waitress wrote everything down then smiled and left.

"Wow, that was . . . Challenging," Arnold said. Then he looked at Helga. "How do you know your French cuisine?"

"Every now and again I humoured some old goats who used to watch me strip," she said. Then realising how that sounded, she shook her head. "Not like that, no sex was ever involved."

"Okay," Arnold said.

"Some of them were just lonely, you know?" she said. "Going out with a young woman on their arm made them feel special. There was one particular gentleman, and he took me out regularly."

"Do you still see him?" Arnold asked. "As friends, or anything like that?"

"No," Helga said, looking sad. "He passed away a few months ago."

"Oh," Arnold said, not knowing what else to say. "Have you called Phoebe yet?"

"Have you called Gerald?" she countered.

"Not, not yet," Arnold admitted. "I'll do it tomorrow. Or maybe the day after."

"Arnold?" a soft voice enquired. He looked up to see a freckled, redhead smiling at him uncertainly.

"Yeah," he said, looking confused.

"It's me, Lila," she said.

"Oh, hi, sorry, I didn't recognize you," he said, giving her a big smile. She gave him one back. Helga sat back, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Li-la. Of course. She sighed, then looked the woman over. Puberty hadn't been the kindest, but it hadn't been cruel either. She still had the freckles, and that innocent child look, which looked a little creepy on the body of a woman. Her chest was small, but her hips were wide. She wasn't very tall, either, nor slender, but he wouldn't say she was plus.

"And is that you, Helga?" she asked, turning towards the blonde. Helga just smirked and nodded. "Gosh I just heard ever so many rumors about you after you disappeared."

"Fascinating," Helga said. Just then the waitress arrived with her glass of wine. She smiled her thanks to the waitress, then took a big gulp.

"Well, gosh, Helga, I don't think that's how you should drink wine," she said, smiling too politely, then turning to look at Arnold. Arnold smiled, but Helga could tell it was fake. "So are you two seeing each other or . . ."

Helga and Arnold looked at each other.

"Three years," Arnold suddenly said, reaching over and taking her hand, "Listen, tonight's kind of special." Arnold gave her a meaningful stare and patted his pocket. Lila saw the action, and her eyes went wide..

"Oh, oh!," Lila put a hand over her mouth. "Oh my, well, good luck." They both watched her as she made her way over to a tall, slim, nervous looking man, who had been glaring Arnold's way, and fidgeting.

"Wow, he looks like a winner," Helga mumbled. Arnold just raised his eyebrows, and poured himself a glass of water. "What was that about?"

"What?" Arnold asked innocently.

"Pfft, don't play innocent, Arnold," she said. "You didn't want her here anymore than I did. How come?"

Arnold sighed.

"She wrote to me a couple of times," Arnold confessed. "Anyway, she was having problems with her boyfriend at the time, and I was trying to be a good friend and help her through it. Miscommunication somewhere equaled her boyfriends ringing me up and abusing me over the phone. Never wrote or spoke to her again."

"Huh," Helga said. She looked up as their waitress came back with their food. "Let me know how the pork tastes."

"I also didn't like her tone," Arnold said. "I've wisened up to woman a little over the years. I can see when ones taking a dig at another to make them look bad in front of someone."

"Yep, we're bitches," Helga said, digging into her duck. "So good!"

"Listen, Helga," he started. She looked at him questioningly.

"Yeah?"

"Phoebe told me to be careful with you," Arnold said. "Said you had been badly hurt. That maybe it was looking at baby stuff that set you off. So what happened that your not telling me?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, looking confused.

"That day in Walmart."

Helga sighed. "You wouldn't understand," she said, sighing.

"Try me," he said.

Helga looked at him for the longest time, the sighed again.

"When I was seventeen I got pregnant," she admitted. "I was going out with the guy at the time. But when I found out and told him, he told his parents. Next thing I know, he's in Military School, his parents are keeping us form each other, and I'm left in the lurch. I came clean to my parents. Miriam . . . I don't know what got into her. My Dad was just angry at Sven's family."

"Sven?"

"Yeah, what of it?" Helga said defensively. "Anyway, Miriam and I had been butting heads for a while, since I started seeing the guy. Turns out, before she met my dad, she was dating his father. She didn't like it, thought it was "incesty" or something. Pffft."

"So then what?" Arnold asked.

"You know your going to have to tell me what's going on with your parents, don't you?" she said. Arnold shrugged.

"This was the final straw I guess, cause she lost the plot and slapped me. We'd had our fair fights, but it never got physical. And I probably did goad her a bit in this instance. Anyway, Bob stepped in and roared at her. Then he told me to go to my room. I took off though. He tracked me down. Gave me some money. Told me to come back in a few days after we both cooled off. Stayed with Pheebs a few days, then left Hillwood. Haven't been back since, actually. Just travelled around, stayed here and there, I told you about my travels. In between that though, I met the Camel family, and Bob tracked me to the Camel's, gave me a phone with GPS, pays the bill on it, sends me money."

"But Phoebe said you were badly hurt," Arnold said. "Did you lose the baby?"

"Phoebe was being overdramatic," Helga said laughing. "No, I didn't lose a baby, Arnold, I gave her away."

"You gave your baby away?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "To Lyra and Kevin."

Arnold's mouth dropped. "So their daughter is actually yours?"

"When I was pregnant with her, Arnold, I was homeless, I was seventeen, I could barely look after myself, let alone a little baby," she told him defensively. "This is why I never explained it all to Phoebe. Or anyone else. Whenever I tried, they just didn't get it."

She looked away. "No one understands. Bob does, which is why he supports me. Oddly enough. But Lyra and Kevin helped me, saved me. Who knows what would've happened to me? I was just going to have an abortion. But when she had that miscarriage that second day I was with them, I felt so bad. She was shattered. Kevin was shattered. It was her third miscarriage, Arnold. Her third! She lost three babies at various stages."

Arnold frowned and looked down at the floor. That had to have been devastating for the woman.

"She was heartbroken, Arnold. So I offered her mine," Helga told him. "That's when I knew exactly what I was going to do. I would be saving a life, giving the baby a loving family, helping heal a broken heart."

"So you gave her to Lyra and Kevin," he finished for her.

"Arnold, they are good people, good parents, and they let me stay in her life," Helga told him. "I know she's well looked after, so I have no regrets."

"Then why do you cry at night?" he asked.

"I'm lonely," she admitted. "When I'm away from them, I get lonely. I want a family one day too, you know. "

They were both quiet for a long time, Arnold going over everything Helga had told him.

"Now it's your turn," she said. "What's going on with you and your parents?"

"Ugh!" Arnold moaned, covering his face with both hands, then dragging them down it. "They treated me like a baby!"

"A baby?" she asked.

"Always interfering," he added. "You know, I was used to having a degree of independence, living with Grandma and Grandpa, but they were always hovering around me. Mom took a liking to a girl I dated in High School. She was so upset when I broke up with her."

Helga laughed. "Man, I usually hear the opposite. Boyfriends mother hates girlfriend!"

"I wish," Arnold said. "Anyway, she would hassle me about it. I blew up at her. I understand they missed out on my childhood, but man. They were so controlling or that's how it felt. Feels. You know, they even sent away college applications to Universities I hadn't even thought of. "Helping me out", as they put it. Then they interfered in my Curriculum. I changed my whole major just to get out from under their thumb! But they still found a way to interfere!"

He slammed his fists onto the table, making Helga jump.

"And then, I go back for Thanksgiving and guess who's there?" he said.

"I don't know," Helga said, shaking her head.

"My high school ex-girlfriend, that's who!" he snapped.

"Oh, uh, awkward," Helga said.

"No fucking kidding," he said angrily. "It was the most awkward dinner ever, especially because her parents were there. Mom kept going on and on about how nice it was to have them for dinner again. Look to my dad for help and what do I get? A shrug. A fucking shrug."

"So it didn't end well I take it?"

"I walked out, told them both to get fucked, I was big enough and ugly enough to make my own decisions, my own mistakes and told them to stay the fuck outta my life!" he told her a little too loudly. A few people turned to look at him, and one woman put her hands over a child's ears and glared at him. He ran a hand through his hair.

"I was just so fed up with it, Helga," he said. "They were always right behind me, trying to say what I should do, and I just snapped. I put up with it for years. But the coup de grâce was when grandpa was sick they didn't even let me come back! Grandma had died not too long before. He needed my help! And they didn't let me come. They didn't even tell me how sick he was til it was too late."

Helga was quiet. "Wow," she finally said.

"I cant forgive them, Helga," he said quietly. "My grandparents raised me, they did the hard yards. My parents swooped in, took over, and took all the credit for their hard work, and didn't even pay it back by letting me be with them in the end."

They were both quiet, letting everything said between them sink in.

"I hate them."

…

Laying in bed that night Helga thought about everything that Arnold had told her. 'How messed up things are,' she thought. She had always thought that Arnolds parents would have been wonderful and thoughtful. But then again, when she thought about it, she could kind of sympathize with them. The little baby boy they had left behind needed them. They're gone, come back into his life, and instead of that little baby, they're faced with an independent, free-thinking, pre-teen on the cusp of puberty. They didn't have that in between time to get to know what made him tick. They didn't get to see him grow up. In their mind he was a baby. But then he wasn't. how would you deal with something like that?

It was one reason why Helga was so glad for the Camel family taking in Jessamyn. Helga would never have that problem. They got on like a house on fire. Lyra and Kevin had even specified in their will, that if anything untoward happened to them, the kids were to go into Helga's care.

Helga wiped her eyes. There was that feeling of lonliness and emptiness every time she thought of them. She would call them tomorrow, let them know she had arrived safe and sound. Hearing Lyra's mothering voice, even over the phone, would sooth Helga's feelings of homesickness. And Jessamyn and the boys would talk to her, making her even happier. After they had adopted Jessamyn from Helga, Lyra had had two more children, twin boys. But she didn't love Jessamyn any less. Jessamyn was coming up to nine. Lyra had approached Helga about when the best time to tell her the truth would be. Helga always said, "later". Lyra told her that Jessamyn needed to know someday.

The door to her bedroom opened, then closed and she turned to see a shadow standing by the door.

"Who's there?" she called out, grabbing her mobile.

"It's me," Arnold said. Helga reached over and turned on the bedside light.

"Arnold, what are you doing?" she asked. She looked at her clock. "It's one in the morning."

"I couldn't sleep," he said, coming forward and sitting beside her on the bed. "I walked past and heard you crying."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes again. They were both quiet.

"Is it that lonely feeling?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I feel so silly."

He laid down on the bed.

"Want some company?"


	4. Chapter 4

(I'm trying to pace myself through this fanfic. I have two small boys and often I rush to finish my fics, which leaves me feeling not so happy with the endings :( )

..

They were both exhausted the next morning, and slept in. They had spent the night talking, Helga filling Arnold in on what everyone from P.S 118 had gotten up to after he had left, to the best of her knowledge. He told her all about what he had gotten up to, and filled her in on what had happened between him and his parents in more detail. Helga shook her head at times. It almost made her glad that her parents were so hands off.

He also confessed that he had had no love life in years.

"None?" she asked. He shook his head. "Why not?"

"Because my mother would stick her nose in," he said. "The last time I slept with a girl, just a one nighter, my mother actually got in touch with her. It was humiliating."

If Helga hadn't known how much this hurt him, she would have laughed. But he was so serious.

"She will have your social security number and everything, you know, once she finds out your Phoebe's Maid of Honour. Work history, credit history, everything, then she'll pass it all on to me, so if you have any secrets, let me know now," he told her.

"Are you serious?" she asked. He just nodded. 'Okay, weird.'

She had fallen asleep before he had, and he had just laid awake and watched her sleep. It was so nice being able to talk to someone who didn't judge, or just shrug it off. Gerald would sometimes say "I told you so," when he brought it up. Or would try to offer some other "wisdom". Or he would get the whole, "It's hard on them too," speech. Okay, yeah, it would have been. But there was a thing called ears, and he had a voice. It wasn't hard to listen. He fell asleep staring at her.

She woke up to find him facing her asleep. She smiled. A sliver of sunlight filtered in, and touched his hair. She reached out and touched a strand. They were so close. Running her hands through it, she noticed it was soft. She ran her knuckles down his cheek. His skin was smooth, but a bit dry. 'He needs to moisturise, or wear sunscreen,' she though sighing. She rolled onto her back. She should get up, and maybe look at getting some breakfast. But it was much too nice, this moment right here, right now. She stretched and yawned, then just laid there staring at the ceiling. She wondered how she looked right now. She had taken what minuscule makeup she had on off, but there was always the risk that some mascara had stayed on then rubbed in the night. She looked over at him again, then decided to get up and go to the bathroom. She inched over and placed her feet on the floor. Her slippers were on his side. Walking around she found, them, bent over to pick them up and looked up to see Arnold staring down the top of her nightie. He looked up at her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Bathroom," she replied, straightening up. He would have seen her breasts! Hanging there.

"Okay," he said, rolling over and seemingly going back to sleep.

Helga turned around and went to the bathroom. She felt relief looking in the mirror. She looked pretty good, if a little puffy around the eyes. 'That's what happens when you cry at night,' she chastised herself. She grabbed a towel, took a shower, then made her way back to her room. She should have brought some clothes to the bathroom with her.

…..

Arnold was laying in bed, eyes closed, picturing Helga naked. She wore nothing under her nightie.

"Ugh, this is not a good thing to think about," he said, rolling onto his back. "You've only been reacquainted for three days."

It was a nice wake up call, to roll over and see straight down her top. Thinking about it, about her, how warm and soft she was to snuggle next to, was making him hard.

"Cold shower, call Gerald, breakfast," he said, getting up. His arousal obvious, Helga chose the moment he was uncovered to walk in wrapped in a towel. Even though he was wearing pyjama pants, it was pretty obvious. Helga's cheeks went pink, but she chose to follow his lead and just pretend like she hadn't noticed.

For Arnold it didn't help. He looked away.

"I'll just leave you to get dressed," he said, getting up, red-faced.

"Yeah," she said, not looking at him. "See you at the table."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Awkward silence.

"So I'll go now," he said.

"Okay."

"Helga, I want to fuck you-"

"What?"

"Thankyou! I want to thank you!" he yelled out, then raced out the door, leaving Helga wide eyed and on the verge of laughter.

Arnold meanwhile, entered his room and leaned against the wall. He had never felt so embarrassed. Well, yeah, he probably had, but never in his life had he said that to a girl. Never. What the hell happened? He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Then he heard his phone ringing. He walked over and picked it up off the bedside table.

Gerald.

"Hello?" he answered.

"What the fuck, man?" Gerald yelled down the phone. "I had to hear through Rhonda, who heard from Lila that you were not only in town, but on a date with Helga and getting engaged!?"

"I said it to get rid of her," he said. "She came over to be nosey."

"But you were on a date with Helga?" Gerald demanded. "Man, you only met up again like two days ago!"

"Three," Arnold said.

"Not the point!"

"Gerald-"

"No, no, do you have any idea how Phoebe is reacting to this," Gerald snapped. "Not only that, man, you were in town _yesterday_ and you didn't even call! After being a day later than you said you would be!"

"I'm sorry," Arnold said. "What do you want me to say?"

"Just tell me nothing is going on with you and Helga," he said.

"Nothing is going on with me and Helga," Arnold said. "Trust me."

"Okay, thank you, I will inform Phoebe," Gerald said. Then he lowered his voice. "Just make sure Helga knows to say the same, okay?"

"Why wouldn't she, Gerald?" Arnold asked. "There's nothing going on."

"Uh-huh, and let's leave it that way, at least til Phoebe and I are in Hawaii," Gerald said. "_Please_. Two weeks, that's all I'm asking for. Two weeks. No drama."

"Alright, two weeks, no drama, no sex, no nothing," Arnold said, not willing to argue with Gerald.

"Hey, I didn't say no sex, man, that's just cruel," Gerald said. "I just mean don't let Phoebe find out."

….

Helga again ignored Phoebe's call. She didn't cut the call off, just left it to ring and go to answer phone. She looked up when Arnold came in.

"House to ourselves," Helga said, leaning on the table. "What's for breakfast?"

"Toast I guess," he mumbled.

"Let's not let a small slip up make things awkward, Arnold," she said, coming up close behind him and putting an hand on his arm. "Everything was going so well."

She felt him tense up, and inwardly sighed. 'Damn it!' she thought. 'Why?' Then she felt him relax, and turn toward her. She looked up. His eyes, his beautiful eyes. She didn't look away.

"Your right," he said. "I'm just really embarrassed."

Helga laughed.

"Yeah, well, it happens," she told him smiling. "It's nice having company at night, you know. Last time I had company it was Jessamyn and the boys in the bed watching Disney movies while their parents were staying at the hospital."

"Was it hard?" he asked finally. "Giving up your child?"

"Not really, not for me," she said. "I can't speak for anyone else whose ever given up a baby. Like I said, they kept me in her life. Most don't have that luxury."

"Of course," he said.

"It helps that I know the family," she said. "But still, even though I know she's safe and happy, they grow so fast. I can be gone for a couple of months, come back and she's walking and saying twenty words. The next visit a broken sentence. It's hard to keep up when your not there."

Arnold nodded. Is that how his parents felt?

"Who knows where she'll be the next time I'm there?" Helga asked. "I'll be there for her ninth birthday. She's into Princess High dolls. Last year she was into arts and crafts and jewellery. But by her birthday, she may like something completely different."

"Do you sympathize with my parents?" he asked.

"To a degree, but not a very high one," Helga said. "I can kind of understand the lack of parenting skills, because they haven't had to be parents, and that wasn't top of their priority. They were focused on something else. Then to switch onto parent mode for a teenager, when they hadn't gone through the toddler and childhood phase would have been difficult. Sometimes even I find it hard to deal with Jessamyn, and I still see her regularly. And I know mothers who struggle with the kids they see everyday."

"Do you think I was too hard on them?" he asked.

"I think they were out of line in many areas, especially in meddling in your relationships," Helga said. "I can tell you right now, your mother ever pulls that stunt with me and I'll tell her where to go and what to do when she gets there. I wont put up with it."

"Fair enough," he said. Hearing knocking at the front door, Helga went to answer it. Opening the door she found Phoebe standing there, glaring sightly.

"You were supposed to be staying with me," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"Staying here?" she said casually. Phoebe grabbed her arm.

"Oh no, you don't," Phoebe hissed. She pulled Helga out the door. "What are you playing at, Helga? Staying with Arnold?"

"I didn't want to get in your way," Helga snapped. "Now let go of me. Geez, what the hell is your problem?"

"I don't like this Helga," she said, looking past her and at the boarding house door.

"What's the problem, Phoebe?" Helga asked, getting annoyed. Arnolds words came back to her in regards to what Phoebe had said to him. "And why were telling him to stay away from me?"

"I said to be careful," she said.

"Look, Phoebe, your three weeks from getting married," Helga said. "Nothing is happening. I'm staying here. That's all."

"Then what's this I hear about dates and engagements?" Phoebe asked.

"Okay, now your just insulting yourself, Phoebe," Helga said. "Look, Lila came to snoop, Arnold lied, and she walked away and blabbed misinformation to everyone. We just met up three days ago, Pheebs. How stressed out are you?"

Phoebe sighed, and sat down on the steps.

"Too stressed," she admitted. "It's like, just when I think everything is done, something else pops up."

"Are you deflecting?" Helga asked, sitting down next to her, delighted that she was so easily able to change the topic of conversation.

"Are you?" Phoebe countered.

"Maybe," she said, leaning back and tilting her face to the morning sun.

"You know, Olga is still living with your parents, right?" Phoebe said. "She asked if you were going to be coming. I told her I didn't know."

"Well then, me being here is a good thing then, isn't it?" Helga said. "You wont be lying when you say I'm not staying with you. And she wont look for me here, surely."

"Are you ever going to talk to them again?" Phoebe asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Olga, maybe, my dad I already do, but Miriam? I'm not so sure."

"Fair enough," Phoebe said, looking at her hands. "We have dress fittings next week. Then again two days before the wedding."

"Colour?"

"Baby blue," Phoebe told her. "Are you alright with that?"

"Fine," Helga said. "Makeup? Are we doing our own or having someone do it for us?"

"Stylist," Phoebe told her.

"And who's going to be my fellow maids?"

"No one, just you," she said.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Phoebe said. "I didn't really want too many. It's very small and intimate, not big and elaborate."

"Sounds nice," Helga said, smiling.

….

"How bad was it?" Arnold asked, as Helga entered the kitchen alone.

"She's stressed," Helga said. "I think she's trying to find something else to worry about, so decided to settle on me."

"Okay," he said. He placed a cup of coffee in front of her. "If you had to do this place up for sale, what would you go for?"

"Me?" Helga asked.

"Yeah," he said. "What would you do?"

Helga thought about it but really couldn't come up with an answer. She only knew the layout of the bottom floor, and inside the walls and between the floors, the bathroom upstairs, and Arnold's old bedroom . . .

"Uh, not sure, where do you want to start?" she said.

"The beginning," he said. "The entrance."

…..

"What's under the wallpaper?" Helga asked, running her hands over it.

"Wood I think," Arnold said, looking up from his computer.

"Good wood? Bad wood?" Helga asked, itching to tear a piece off and look underneath.

"I don't know, Helga, have a look, I wan to take it off anyway," Arnold said, watching her. He saw her frown, then sigh, then use her fingernail to pick a piece off. He was feeling the butterflies again, but lower than his stomach, 'Stop it!' he yelled to himself. He looked back down at the computer, then back up. She was stretching a little high, and her shirt rod up a bit. He could see a few silvery lines on her stomach. 'Scars?' he wondered. 'Stretch marks, probably,' another voice said in his head. Did they hurt?

"Well, it's wood alright, looks like ," Helga said. "But don't quote me on that."

Arnold nodded. "May as well keep going."

He got up and together they started to remove what they could of the wallpaper.

"We need something to get the remnants off," Helga said.

"I'll see what's in the basement," Arnold said, taking off down the stairs. It smelt damp. It still had a lot of things stored down there. 'We should go through all this stuff, maybe have a yard sale or something,' Arnold thought, making his way through it all, to the wall that had a shelving unit his grandpa had always kept tools on. He searched til he found what he was looking for, then went to leave when a box caught his eye.

ARNOLD'S.

He frowned then walked over to it. It wasn't massive, but was still pretty big. He put the gear down and lifted the box. It wasn't too heavy either. Stacking his materials on top of the box, he lifted it all up and made his way back upstairs. He felt some of the weight lift, as Helga grabbed some things off the top.

"A box?" she asked.

"With my name on it," he said.

"Ooooh, what's in it?" she asked, sounding excited. "Baby pictures? Old paintings?"

Arnold placed the box on the floor, then the blade of a scraper, sliced through the tape holding the box closed.

"I hope whatever's in there isn't damaged," she said quietly.

"Same," Arnold said, opening it up. There was some old paintings Arnold had done in grade school, and some old books.

"Wow, your grandparents kept all this?" she asked, a wistful tone to her voice.

"I guess so," he said. It had some stuff from his old room that he must have left behind. Old class photo's.

"Oh, God!" Helga said, seeing that she was in each of them, glaring out at the camera. "Burn it, Arnold, burn it!" Arnold laughed and just set them aside.

Then he found a small velvety box, like the kind you put jewellery in. when he opened it he saw three rings sitting in it.

Arnold,

Here's mine and your grandmas wedding rings, and her engagement ring. Leaving them to you to share with your lovely lady friend. You know, the grumpy one with the one eyebrow hahaha, I'm a wiley old coot.

Grandpa.

Arnold looked up at Helga quickly, seeing she was still looking through some old photo's. he closed the box, and put it in his pocket.

'How did Grandpa know we'd see each other again?'

They got to work, stripping the wallpaper off the wall. Susie came home and asked what was happening.

"Redecorating," Arnold said. Helga gave her a smile.

"Okay," she said, closing the door behind her and making her way into the kitchen. "Do you guys want dinner?"

"It's cool," Arnold said, "We'll get something later."

"Well, alright then," Susie said, walking away and leaving them to it. When Oskar got home he moaned. Arnold and Helga ignored him.

A couple of hours later they stopped. Arnold sat down, while Helga admired their hard work.

"It's nice wood," Helga said, running her hand over it. "Glossy it up a bit and voila! I think wood is a much warmer colour than any paint could be, don't you?" She looked back at Arnold. He was sitting down, back against the wall, watching her intently.

"Stop looking at my butt," she said, laughing.

"Can't help it, it's a nice butt," he said, smiling.

"Yeah, it is," she said proudly, giving it a quick slap.

'Lucky hand,' he thought, watching he move over to him to sit down.

"Pizza?" she asked.

"Pizza," Arnold confirmed, getting up and going to the phone to order. Helga watched him go, butterflies in her stomach. She looked down at her hands. She needed a distraction.

"I'm gonna go wash up," she said, standing up and stretching. She made her way to her room and grabbed her clothes and a towel, then went to the bathroom. Turning on the shower she waited for it to heat up, thinking about how she had spent the day. The wall the length of the entrance staircase was clear. When it was hot enough she hopped in, closing the curtain behind her. She spent most of it thinking of Arnold. His small slip up this morning kept playing in her mind. She laughed again a little at it.

"Oh, Arnold," she said quietly. "So clumsy and clutzy, and yet, so charming and sweet." As she finished and opened the curtain she heard a knock on the door.

"Helga," she heard him call through the door. She wrapped herself in a towel and walked over to the door, opening it.

"Yeah?" she asked. She delighted in the way his cheeks turned pink, and his eyes a little wider.

"Uh, the pizza…" he said, licking his lips and looking away.

"The pizza . . ." she encouraged. Oh boy, was she having fun with this!

"Soon. It come," he said. Then he shook his head. "I mean it's coming soon."

"Okay, I'll get dressed and wait for it while you shower then, okay," she told him, deliberately brushing past him on her way out. "See you soon."

…..

'She did that on purpose' he thought, making his way to the shower. She had left it running for him. He stripped off and hopped in, enjoying the tingly sensation of the hot water running over his body. It felt delightful. As he grabbed the shampoo, he realised that it wasn't his. It was Helga's.

'Fructus' he read. 'What is it with girls a fruit in their hair?' he wondered, as he looked outside the bath for his shampoo. As he looked he settled on the clothes she had left on the floor. He shook his head, then hopped out, scooping them up to dump in the laundry basket, when her panties fell from the bunch. There wasn't much to them, and he couldn't imagine they covered much. He blushed again, thinking of her denim clad ass bare. He dropped her clothes in the basket, threw her panties in there, resisting some weird urge to smell them - 'What is wrong with me!' - then located his own shampoo and continued with his shower.

When he was done, he realised he hadn't grabbed a towel.

"Shit," he cursed. What was he going to do? He could hurry to his room nude, and hope no one saw him. But he could hear Oskar nearby moaning about something. Help. He could call Help. Going to the door he opened it and called out to Oskar.

"He's too busy complaining about not being able to find the remote," he heard Helga say, coming up the stirs, holding a towel out to him with a smirk. "Forget something?"

"Thanks Helga," he said, reaching for it. He didn't know how it happened, but the door suddenly came off the hinges and he fell down on top of it.

"Arrgh!" Helga shouted, jumping backwards. "Oh my God, Arnold, are you okay?"

Arnold heard her trying not to laugh and looked up to see her standing there, smiling and biting her lip. Again, Arnold felt embarrassed. There he was, wet and naked, lying on the bathroom door on the floor. Helga placed the towel over the lower half of his body, then helped him up, promising not to look.

But she totally snuck a peek.

"By the way, the pizza's here."


	5. Chapter 5

Arnold was stressing out hard. The place seemed to be falling apart, he'd completely humiliated himself twice in one day. First, by telling Helga he wanted to fuck her, instead of thank her. THEN breaking a door and falling to the floor with it, butt naked and wet, while she stood there trying not to laugh. During pizza, every time she happened to glance at him she would smile and try not to laugh.

He wiped his hand over his face. What was he going to do? He rolled over and looked at the time. One am. Ugh! He needed sleep. He was supposed to go out with Gerald tomorrow. They were just going to hang out with Harold at his sons little league game. He couldn't believe Harold had a son, even more that he had gotten into architechture.

Knocking on the door drew his gaze away form the clock.

"Who is it?" he called out.

"Me," Helga said, opening the door and peeking in. "You decent?"

"Yes, Helga," he said with a sigh. "I have clothes on."

"That's a shame," she said, walking over to his bed, and laying down on it. "Can't sleep?"

"Are you kidding me?" he said. "You were there!"

Helga laughed softly, then turned on her side so she was facing him. He took note of the way her silk, above knee, spaghetti strap nightie rose when she moved. He wanted to touch and caress her exposed thigh, run his fingers up until . . .

"Arnold?" he heard her repeat, sounding irritated.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

Helga was staring at him intently. Then she smiled and tilted her shoulder down a bit, causing the strap to fall down.

"What has you so distracted you couldn't even hear me?" she purred. Arnold gulped. "If it's the way I'm dressed I can easily put more on and come back."

Arnold didn't know what to say. How did he get out of this one? He didn't want to seem prudish and controlling by making her put more on. But then, he didn't want to come across as a pervet when he said it was fine.

"Uhh, umm. I -" he stuttered.

"Forget it," Helga said. "Anyway, I asked what are your plans tomorrow? Phoebe wants to drag me shopping. Shoes apparently."

"Gerald," he said. "Gonna watch Harold's son play a game of Little League." Helga laughed.

"Cute," she said, rolling onto her back. "You don't mind if I crash here for the night, do you?"

Arnold just shook his head.

He didn't mind at all.

"So, you want a family one day, huh?" Arnold asked, putting his hands behind his head.

"Yeah, but not on my own, you know?" she said. "I'm not saying I couldn't do it, I totally could. But it would be nice to do that with someone."

They both went quiet, and then Helga fell asleep. Arnold listened as her breathing became shallow and regular. He thought about what she had said. A family, a proper family, is something he had always dreamed of. Him, and wife, and two children. Being an only child could get lonely, or maybe it was just because he also missed his parents. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting it out slowly. He turned his head to look at Helga. Her mouth was open a bit, and she was starting to drool. He grinned, then reached over and grabbed his phone, setting it to camera mode.

No way was he going to miss this shot!

…

She had snuggled into him during the night. When she woke she could smell him. Her face had been buried into the crook of his neck, her arms wrapped around his one arm, legs pulled up and close. She pulled away slowly, and slipped out of the bed, so she wouldn't wake him, then made her way downstairs.

"But Susie, it's too early," she heard Oscar's whine travel to her ears. She stopped and cringed. never mind, she was going back to bed. She couldn't stand the man lecherous smile, and whinging voice. How his poor wife put up with him for so long she'd never know. Hurrying upstairs she entered into her room, getting her stuff together for a shower. Thinking fast, she grabbed a sheet and some drawing pins. When she got there she pinned the sheet up over the door frame, then turned on the shower, stripping while the water warmed up.

When it was where she wanted she hopped in and went straight to washing the nights sweat off. Why she'd curled up into him like that, she wasn't sure. It wasn't cold. In fact, it was the opposite. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair, making sure all the shampoo was out. She watched as the suds went down the drain. She was feeling restless . . . No, not restless . . . She shook her head. 'Don't think about it, wash it away,' her mind was telling her. She grabbed her soap then reached out for a facecloth and screamed, falling back to the wall of the shower and almost sliding down.

Standing in the middle of the bathroom, just staring, was Arnold.

"Arnold, what are you doing?" she asked, wrapping the curtain around herself.

"Did I leave my bagel here?" he asked.

"What?" Helga demanded, shaking water from her eyes. Ow, shampoo water, in eyes, ow.

"You dribbled on my shoulder," he said, then turned around and walked out.

Helga blinked disbelievingly a few times, before letting the shower close.

Was he sleep walking?

Unnerved, she finished washing herself quickly, then got out and, not wanting to take chances peeked out the door. Hallway was clear, so she made a run for it to her room, but stopped as she passed Arnold's. he was staring at the wall, playing with something in his hands.

"Arnold?" she called, walking in, and making sure her towel was tightly wrapped around her.

Arnold turned and looked at her. He had a dazed look in his eyes.

"Will you have a family with me?" he asked, in some weird dreamlike state. Helga looked behind her, then back at him.

"Sleep it off, Football Head," she said, walking over and pushing him into a lying position on his back. That's when she saw what he was playing with. Rings. She looked up at his face, but he was asleep. She shook her head, and left, closing the door behind her and deciding to write the whole incident off.

…..

It was better said than done though. Arnold looked sheepish when he came down stairs at last.

"I made toast," Helga said. "Want some toast?"

"Um, sure," he said quietly. He kept thinking of her having a shower.

"So, I dribbled on you, huh?" she said, putting four slices of bread in front of him and a coffee. He looked up at her.

"How'd you know?" he asked. "Did you look at my phone?"

"Phone? There's photographic evidence?" she demanded. "Shit you, give me that phone, it's gone."

"Not my phone?"

"No you told me, when you came into the bathroom while I was having a shower looking for your bagel," she told him. "Now where's the phone?"

"Safe," he said. "So I actually did walk into the bathroom while you were having a shower?"

"Yeah, phone, now."

She watched as Arnold went white as a sheet.

"Jesus, does that mean I did ask you to marry me?" he asked her, looking panicked.

Helga almost laughed, but stopped. How far could she milk this? Inside she smiled.

"Phone," she said, irritated.

"I did, didn't I?" he said. He put his face in his hands. "Helga, I'm really sorry-"

"Yeah, yeah, you sleepwalk, and propose and want babies in your sleep, I get it," she said. She walked over holding out her hand. "Phone."

"Babies? I asked you for babies?" he asked.

"Come on, you sleepwalking, sleep-talking Romeo, I want the phone." She watched as his face changed emotions several times. Then it went calm, and still. "Arnold, the phone."

"ARRRRRRRRH, help me the bath is fallen!" they heard a voice wail from upstairs. Helga and Arnold looked at each other then heard Susie crying out for help. Rushing upstairs they found the commotion coming from the bathroom.  
"Oh, Arnold, thank God, you have to help us!" Susie cried, distressed.  
Following her into the bathroom Arnold's stomach dropped. The bath was starting to fall through the floor. The front was gone, and Oscar was hanging onto the shower head.  
"Oh, Arnold, you have to help me, Susie isn't strong enough!"

"Oh, God, the nightmares," he heard Helga say behind him, then heard her move away.  
"What's going on?" a gruff voice asked.  
"The bath's fallen through the floor," he heard her telling the man.

Arnold sighed and went to help Oscar. Just as they were getting to the door there was a crack-bang-crash.  
And a big hole in the floor where the shower used to be.

...

"That's not good," Gerald said.  
"No kidding," Arnold said.

"Well, I could help out some, you know, wholesale and mates rates," Harold offered. "If that helps."  
"I don't know," Arnold said, looking down at his feet. He ran his hands through his hair for the millionth time. He was going to be bald by the end of the day, he swore.

"Working bee?" Gerald suggested.  
Arnold shook his head.

"I just need to get rid of it," he said. His head hung low. It broke his heart. The Boarding House had been in the family for years. But now . . . "The whole place is falling apart."

The three men were quiet, watching the boys running around a field with a ball. Harold's son was going to take after him. He was going to be big and stocky. He already towered above his friends. But he was also very quiet.  
"Well, the offer is there," Harold said. "  
I have some time off coming up. The beauty of owning your own business."  
"Yeah, and I'll help you where you can," Gerald said.

Arnold sighed.  
"Gerald, you have a wedding to plan, and Harold you have a family to spend time with," Arnold told them. "I'll work something out."

...

"Wow, so it just fell through the floor?" Phoebe asked.

"Yeah, and Oscar was just hanging there," Helga explained. "It was traumatizing. I'm looking at at least fifty years of therapy to get over it."

"Poor Arnold," Phoebe said, shaking her head.

"Enough," Helga said, smiling at her bestest and oldest friend. "Show me how it looks with the veil!"

Phoebe smiled brightly, and placed it on her head. Helga moved forward and helped straighten it.  
"You look beautiful," Helga whispered.  
Phoebe was slim. She had become quite stocky, and because of her lack of height, it made her look bigger than what she actually was. It had cause her some anxiety in high school. Gerald being on the basketball team meant he was around some of the prettier and more popular girls. Phoebe had been a paranoid ball of stress, but she needn't have worried. Gerald had eyes only for her, and never strayed. That she knew.

"Thankyou, Helga," Phoebe said, turning and looking at herself in the mirror. "I feel beautiful."

Phoebe had gone for a regency theme for her and Helga.  
The muslin of the dress clung to the curves she did have, giving her the appearance of being taller than she was, with blue ribbon acting as a "belt", just under her bust. It was the same blue as Helga's bridesmaid dress (which had a cream belt). Phoebe had chosen an ivory, rather than white dress, though the sheer chiffon was white. She was wearing ivory low heel shoes, with little diamantes on the edges. Her veil wasn't in with the theme though. It was fingertip length and had crystals woven into it.

"I'm so excited," Phoebe squealed. Then she went quiet. Helga looked up and saw her thinking. "What's happening at Arnold's?"

Helga rolled her eyes. She should have known. "Nothing," Helga said. "Unless you count the Boarding House falling apart."

"Arnold's resourceful, and has a lot of friends," Phoebe explained, looking at Helga pointedly. "He has plenty of people to help him already."

"Whe have I ever helped anyone, Pheebs?" she asked, rolling her eyes again. "Look, nothing is happening, nothing is going to happen, so just relax and enjoy getting ready to get married. Pretty soon you'll be busy enjoying being married."

...

"Suzie and Oscar went out tonight," Arnold told her. "The others had things to do. Pretty sure they're out looking for other places to move to."

"Fair enough, I would be too," Helga said, looking for a measuring cup. "Hey, feel like mac and cheese?"

"There's packets in the cupboard," he told her. "It was always going to happen I guess. Do you reckon whoever buys the place will tear it down? The cupboard, Helga. There's packets in the cupboard."

"Hell no," Helga said. "That stuff is revolting. I'm making sauce from scratch. Look, we can probably get it fixed up ourselves, then sell it on."

"How?" he asked, wondering if Helga realised she had referred to them in a together sense. The idea made his heart skip a beat.

"There is so much shit in the basement and the attic, right?" Arnold nodded. "So get rid of it. We can sort through it all and have a yard sale or something. Then whatever you raise from that can go back into the Boarding House."

"It would take us a couple of years to sort through it," Arnold said with a laugh. "Half that stuff was probably in there before this place even ended up in my family's ownership!"

"Then maybe there is something of value. Sort it out and get those people who come around looking at stuff and evaluating it to have a look," Helga said, not looking back. Arnold watched her moving around the kitchen. She was so graceful. Like a dancer. Arnold bit his lip. She had been a dancer hadn't she? His mind was conjuring images he has to shake out. He sat quietly thinking. He listened with half an ear as Helga talked. When she turned to look at him he looked to be in a trance. She sighed, and walked over to him, snapping her fingers in front of his face. He jumped. She shook her head. "Space cadet."

"Sorry, I was just thinking, that maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea," Arnold said. "I mean, it will need to get moved when the place sells anyway."

"Exactly, better that you make money from the junk than someone else."

...

Everyone now had to use the bathroom that belonged to one of the unoccupied rooms that had once belonged to the enigmatic Mr. Smith, who was long gone.

"I was so disappointed when I first came in here after he moved out," Suzie admitted. "I was expecting so much more than just this."

"Just be careful in the shower," Oscar said. "It might fall through the floor too."

"It's so hot today," Helga said, fanning herself with the tea towel in the kitchen. It was Friday. The heat had suddenly hit. "Want to make a start on the junk in the basement?"

Arnold looked back at her. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

"Anything to get out of this heat!" she cried out. "Hopefully it's cooler down there."

They finished breakfast, then made their way down the stairs. Arnold turned the light on and instinctively turned to help Helga down the stairs, holding his hand out. She took it, and Arnold looked away, remembering the past couple of days. He was attracted to her, he'd no longer deny it. He looked over all the boxes, some piled six high.

"Wow, where do we start?" Helga asked.

"At the front and work our way back?" Arnold suggested. There were a lot of boxes to go through.

"These look like cothes," Helga said, peeking into one. She lifted it and dropped it on the floor, then peeked into the one that had been under it. "More clothes. How about clothes over here, anything else over there?"

"Sounds good," Arnold said, looking into his boxes. More clothes. "Actually I think most of these are clothes." Together him and Helga managed to get twelve boxes of clothes to one side. In other boxes they found toys. They were moved over by the clothes.

"I'll be right back," Helga said, rushing up the stairs. She returned a few moments later with paper, tape and a pen. "We'll label them."

As she sat writing clothes, clothes, toys, on pieces of paper then tearing pieces off and taping them to boxes Arnold continued to glance into boxes. In one he found some old records, and behind them an old gramophone. Looking at the records he noticed they were really old. Swan Lake. He had always heard snippets of the music, but had never sat through it. Some music would be nice. He took Swan Lake out and blew on it, then placed it on. He stood there a moment before realising he had to wind it up. Smiling he wound it as far as it would go, then put the needle on the record and listened as the music began to fill the basement. He continued looking into boxes, finding more records and putting them aside. When he finally went back he found Helga dancing ballet style. He stood quietly watching her fluid movements. She stopped when she saw him watching and smiled.  
"Thirteen years," she told him. "It would be more impressive if I had more room."

"Curly is a professional ballet dancer," Arnold mused.

"I'm not surprised," Helga said, smiling. "He was a wonderful dancer and fantastic partner."

"You two danced together?" Arnold asked surprised.

"Often, we were in the same class. Giselle, Swan Lake, Romeo and Juliet, Cinderella . . ." Helga sighed, her eyes misting. "Oh the regrets I have." She sat down, closing her eyes. Then she opened them. "My teacher at the time was always pushing Curly and I together. Said we had the "x-factor" needed to make it as a duo."

"You could have gone professional?" Arnold asked. "What happened?" He immediately regretted asking, as Helga's eyes darkened over.

"Sven."

"How did you two meet? Through school?" he asked, curious. He had never heard anything about Helga dating from Gerald.

"Ballet," she told him. "He could rival Curly. We danced together, fell in love during Cinderella, then shit hit the fan."

"Have you ever heard from him?" Arnold asked. Okay, he was digging. How could he not?

"Yeah, a few letters have shown up for me at my parents," she said. "Bob kept the ones he found. Miriam burned them. I never wrote back though. Olga told me he showed up looking for me one day, but I wasn't there by then and she didn't know Lyra and Kevin's address to send him after me. She spilled the beans about the baby."

"So he knows about her?"

"Unfortunately."

"And you've never spoken to him?" he asked again. Helga shook her head.

"Let's just get back to sorting through all this stuff," she said quietly.

...

They went upstairs and had sandwiches for lunch, then made their way back down. Most boxes had been put into areas. Now they were finding old furniture.

"This is beautiful," Helga said, running her hands over a wrought iron headboard. "I have a similar kind on my bed at my parents house. They're beautiful all shined up. And fun too, if you know what I mean" She winked at Arnold. He looked over at it confused for a moment, then it clicked.

"Really?" he asked. He looked at it. Again images were popping into his head.

"Someone will like it, restore it, and it will be beautiful again," Helga said, smiling.

Arnold went and put on another record he found, then went back to getting past boxes. Halfway through he stopped for a second listening to the song. It was old. Really old.

"Doesn't this band feature on those video games based around Steampunk?" Helga asked. "Pretty sure I recognise the voices."

"Yeah," Arnold said. "Do you know this song?"

"No. What's it called?"

"I Wonder Who's Kissing Her Now," Arnold told her. He was listening to the lyrics while watching Helga who had gone back to doing what she was doing.

Who else had Helga been kissing during all these years, besides him and Sven? Had she fallen in love again? She must have been in love with Sven, right? They had created a child, so they must have been . . .  
_'Stop thinking about it!_ he yelled at himself in his head. But he couldn't help it. He was starting to feel jealous and mad at the idea of her being with other guys. How stupid was that?


	6. Chapter 6

"A nice, juicy hamburger," Arnold said, smiling and taking a big bite. "This is the life."  
Helga laughed and took a bite from her burger. "We should go bowling after this," she suggested. "Have some fun."  
"Sounds like a plan," Arnold said, smiling. He was enjoying going out with Helga. It wasn't lost on him that she got second, third and even fourth glances from other men. He couldn't blame them. Even in jeans and a nice top she was a looker. One guy had started to approach her at the bar, but he sent him a glare, and placed a hand on Helga's lower back. The guy gave him a casual smile, and moved away. Helga didn't see a thing.  
They'd gone to the local bar and restaurant, where you could get a good meal, a beer, play pool, and it was next to a bowling alley and down the road from the movie theatre. Could they get a movie in tonight?  
"What about a movie instead?" he asked.  
"There isn't really anything that interests me, but I spose we could," she said.  
"There's Evil Twin: Upgrade out," Arnold told her laughing. Helga rolled her eyes.  
"They're still milking that franchise?" she asked, taking another bite. "What's the upgrade?" Arnold smiled at her.  
"A triplet," he said.  
"Oh, God," Helga said. "You can't be serious."

...

"I can't believe you were serious," she whispered to him. Arnold just smiled. He had a nice buzz from the beers over dinner. He had Helga alone, sitting close, and he had received envious glances from other men during the night. He couldn't help it. He enjoyed it. He put his arm behind her across the back of her seat, but didn't touch her. He saw her send a glance his way, and a small smile appeared on her lips, but she pretended like she didn't notice. He reached over and took some popcorn. How either of them could still eat was a mystery. Helga seemed to be getting a little restless near the end. He could sense the tension as the climax of the film came closer. He watched it casually, already guessing how it was going to end.

Arnold was going over stacks of accounts and bills in the kitchen when Helga found him.  
"What are you doing?" she asked, ambling into the kitchen. "It's almost midnight. Why aren't you in bed?"  
"I'm trying to work all these finances out and stuff," he told her, writing some things sat next to him, yawning.  
"Your so boring when you want to be," she said, swinging one leg over her knee. Arnodl finaly looked over to her and saw her again in her silk nighty. He looked away. Why couldnt she cover up? If only when he was trying to concentrate on something else?  
"We can have the yard sale on Sunday," Arnold said. "The sooner the better."  
"But we've only organized the boxes, Arnold, we haven't looked at whats on the inside," Helga pointed out.  
"Helga, I need it gone, I need any money it can bring in, and I need to decide what to do with this place," he snapped. "It's falling apart! I can't afford to keep fixing everything. It's going to cost at least fifteen thousand to fix the upstairs bathroom. That's alot of money that could be going somewhere else." Helga was quiet for a little bit after that.

"Ok, so I will sit and sift through boxes tomorrow," she said, shrugging. "I love looking through other people's stuff. You learn so much about people by the things they kept."

"You want to spend your day stuck in the basement again?" Arnold asked. Helga shrugged again. She got up and tugged on his arm.

"Come on, Arnold, my treat," she said, giving him a smirk.

"What?" he asked, getting up. She smiled back at him and led him upstairs to his room.

"Take off your shirt, and lie down on the bed," she commanded. Arnold did as she said, heart pounding. What was she going to do? "Face down."

Arnold rolled over onto his stomach. He heard her leave, then come back a few minutes later. He looked her way and saw her with a little oil burner, and some candles. She lit them one by one, then disappeared again, coming back with a small stereo. Setting it up, she pressed play, and he could hear the whir of a CD starting up. The sound of waves crashing onto a beach filled the room. He heard her make her way over to him and felt the mattress of the bed move under her weight. He flinched when he felt a cold liquid land on his back. He realised then that it was massage oil, and he breathed in the scent of mango's as she moved her hands over his muscles.

"Relax, shut up, and close your eyes and enjoy," she told him quietly. And he did. It really did feel like he was on a tropical island somewhere. All he could hear was the waves and smell the mango oil she was rubbing into him. And about that. He was beginning to wonder if Helga was some type of immortal. She was a talented artist, writer, dancer and now a masseuse? He lost himself into the dream of lying on a beach, getting a massage. He was still aware of her hands roving over his back. Every now and then he would feel a tickle, which he figured was her long hair. It was a bright blonde in the sun and dry, a dark blonde, almost brown, when wet. The sun would shimmer on her hair and it looked like silver and gold had been threaded in there somewhere. He remembered how soft it felt, could see himself running his hands through her hair, down to the tips which covered her breasts, bare in his dream right now. He looked into dream Helga's face and saw her smile. Oh man, was he falling in love?

Helga meanwhile kept looking over to the candles, worried one might fall down and the room catch on light like that time . . . she chuckled. She had some crazy memories of her time roaming around. She looked down at the relaxed football shaped head and sighed. She had changed her entire life plan after he had moved away with his parents. She no longer centered her world on him. She lost herself in her art, and dancing. Curly, as weird as he had been, was a fabulous dancer, and they danced together many times. She remembered one show where Rhonda had come along to watch them. Patty and Harold had come along to show support for Helga. Rhonda had followed them. Something Rhonda had seen in their dancing together had changed her entire attitude towards Curly.  
But it was too late by then. Curly and Helga were praised together as a pair, and their teacher pushed them together more and more. Not that it had mattered. Then Sven had come along. He was nothing like Arnold. He was tall, dark haired, and tanned and toned, with chocolate coloured eyes. She and Sven had instant chemistry, that not even their teacher and Curly could deny. During the Cinderella ballet they had snuck around meeting in secret and having what Helga was surprised to find was a love affair. Her first love affair! At seventeen . . .  
Then she had gotten pregnant, a shock to both of them, because she was on the pill. It was a hard lesson to learn, that it wasn't one hundred percent effective. Helga sometimes wondered if it was because of her being pregnant that got Sven sent to Military camp, or his father. His father had never approved of Sven's dancing, she remembered. But it would have been the perfect excuse for his father to pull him out and chuck him into a more "manlier" lifestyle.  
Helga looked back down at Arnold. Her first love. What were the chances? Well, she supposed they were pretty big, considering Phoebe and Gerald. But if he had gotten his dream job would he be here? If she hadn't gone through what she had gone through, she could have gone on to become a professional dancer, maybe met and married someone else, or maybe even Sven. Would she be here? She knows for certain she would never have been at that Motel and Diner . . .  
"Everything happens for a reason," Lyra often told her. "God's will."  
Helga smirked. She was not a big believer in religion or God, but she didn't completely dismiss it either. Who knew? Many things weren't known about the world around them. She sighed. The repetitive actions were starting to make her tired, so she changed position, and moved her hands further down. Maybe her and Arnold were meant to meet again. Maybe they were meant to be, or maybe they were just going to be like two ships in the night. She finally stopped. Now she was the one who was thinking too much.

"Thank you," a muffled voice said. Helga looked back down at Arnold. She watched as he rolled over. He wasn't muscled and toned, but he wasn't fat or flabby. Just average. And yet, she still tingled down there at the sight of him lying there, arm behind his head, smiling at her, bare chested. She didn't pull away when he reached out and touched her hair. He looked dazed. Yeah, she had that effect on people when she gave back rubs. As creepy as it sometimes was, she would give her father one when he was feeling stiff.

"Not a problem," she said, smiling down at him. They stared at each other a moment, anticipation of something happening building in her stomach. She looked at the wall behind him, and gasped as he pulled on her hair. His lips met hers and her eyes opened wide. He kissed her cheek then whispered seductively in her ear.

"Relax, shut up, close your eyes and enjoy."

...

"I don't want to get out of bed," Helga moaned, covering her head with the sheet. "Let's stay in bed and make love all day."  
Arnold looked over at her a smiled. It was such a wonderful feeling waking up next to her. He had butterflies in his chest and tingles in his arms.  
"Sounds like a plan," he murmured into her ear, pulling her close, and nuzzling into her neck. Helga let out a giggle and turned to kiss him. Just as he was lifting himself over her, running his hand up the side of her torso, he heard it. Knocking on the door.  
"Arnold?" he heard a man's voice call out. "Are you home?"  
Both Helga and Arnold froze and looked at the door to the bedroom. Then she looked at him and smiled. He sighed.  
"Yeah Dad, Just a min-"  
Arnold fell off the bed with a thump and Helga pulled the sheet over herself quickly as the door opened.  
"Don't open the door!" Arnold yelled, jumping up. But it was too late. Miles had opened the door, seen his naked son and a obviously naked woman covering herself with a blanket. His mouth dropped open, his eyes went wide, then the door slammed closed.  
"Holy crap!" Helga said, looking at him. "What part of just a minute did he not understand?"  
"This is the kind of thing I was telling you about," Arnold told her, pulling his pants up and then grabbing his shirt. Once he was dressed he left the room and headed downstairs to the kitchen. There were his parents, sitting there, coffee cups in front of them. His dad refused to look at him, but his mother didn't. She had a gleam in her eye Arnold didn't like.  
"So I hear you had a lady friend stay the night?" she said, even though it sounded like a question. Arnold knew better.  
"Yeah, I did," he said, going over and grabbing two cups. "She'll be down in a moment."  
His father went bright red. So he should feel embarrassed.  
"Who is she?" asked his mother, flexing her hands, then grabbing her coffee cup with both hands and taking a sip. Arnold smirked.  
"Helga Pataki," he said, leaning on the counter casually. His father looked up at him in surprise, and his mother spat her coffee out. His parents stared at him a moment. They knew Helga and Arnold had a tumultuous past as children together. She was the friend who never answered his letter. And she'd heard some things from Gerald's mother about the girl. Teen pregnancy, running away from home, rebellious from the get-go. Arnold's parents had know more of Helga, than actually directly knowing her. The girl used to drive their son to absolute distraction, and yet he always stood up for her. His mother had decided he didn't like the girl after hearing the tales of things she used to do to her son.

"What is she doing in your bed?" his mother demanded.

"Excuse me?" Arnold asked, shocked at his mother's directness.

"She's a horrible person, she treated you absolutely appallingly when you were children, and yet your sleeping with her?" she snapped. "What are you thinking? How long has this been going on? Why would you dump a perfectly nice girl like Emily for someone like this Helga?"

"I-"

"You know she got pregnant when she was still in school," his mother told him in a warning tone. "Who knows what she's been doing and who she's been doing it with!"

"Stop it!" Arnold yelled. "If you don't like the way I'm leading my life, there's the door, go!"

Silence fell over the trio. Arnold saw Susie and Oscar sneak past the kitchen and heard the front door close. No one dared say a word or even breathe. The words were out. But Arnold didn't want to take them back. Instead, he put his mug in the sink and left, both his parents still sitting at the table, too stunned to speak. He saw Helga sitting on the stairs, looking awkward.  
"And I thought my family could argue," she said quietly. Arnold just shook his head and went up the stairs, pulling her up and after him.

"I'm sorry," he said, entering the bedroom and closing the door behind them.

"It's cool, I've heard worse said about me," she said, giving him a smile.

Arnold shook his head and took a seat on his bed. There was another knock on the door.

"Son, we're going to go stay in a motel," his dad's voice called through the door. "We'll come back tomorrow. You can talk to your mother then. She's very upset."

"I'll just bet she is," Arnold muttered angrily. But he didn't say anything else. Finally there was a heavy sigh from the other side of the door, and then they heard him move away. "So much for our day in bed."


End file.
